


Of Courage and Love Letters

by junko



Series: Written in the Scars (of Our Hearts) [11]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 21:04:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Byakuya makes demands of Soifon with mixed results; Renji trains with Chad with similar mixed results; Byakuya ends up inviting himself along on an errand to the Rukongai with Eishiro...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Courage and Love Letters

Byakuya was still furious when he led his entourage to Soi Fon’s office. The wardens argued with him the entire way back from Seichi Abarai’s cell, but Byakuya held his tongue. He had no interest in their excuses and rationalizations. What was happening with Abarai was a crime against humanity. Reduced to eating his own waste? It was sickening. There was no way to explain away such treatment. 

There was no point in discussing the matter with Soi Fon’s underlings, however. Byakuya would speak directly to her. If she wouldn’t listen, he’d have to take the matter further up the chain of command somehow. Demand some kind of justice. Yet, each captain’s sovereignty was absolute. What charge would even stick, given the sorts of things that Kurotsuchi perpetrated in the Twelfth? 

Byakuya had to hope it wouldn’t come to that. From what he’d seen of Soi Fon, she was rigid, but fair. He believed her to be, at her core, a decent person. Yoruichi had liked and trusted her, after all. That must be worth something.

He’d soon find out for certain.

Ōmaeda stood up when they swept into the antechamber. “Whoa, hold on!” Staring at the procession in confusion, he raised his meaty hands and moved toward the door. “You can’t just barge in, that’s the captain’s office!”

Byakuya didn’t stop. If Ōmaeda wished to bar him, then let him try. When the door opened, Soi Fon sprang to her feet, as though ready for a fight. Byakuya didn’t pause until they stood face-to-face over the expanse of her low table desk. “I’m dissatisfied with Abarai’s treatment. I wish to discuss the changes that must be made as soon as possible, Captain.”

The two wardens spilled into the room, their voices a jumble of counterarguments. “Explain to him, will you, Taicho? We can’t feed Abarai! The results would be explosive.”

“That’s a foolish concern,” Byakuya said evenly. His voice flat and emotionless, he kept his eyes locked on Soi Fon’s narrow gaze. He’d appeal to her sense of pride. “Surely you feed far more dangerous people in the Nest, Captain. You are, no doubt, prepared to incarcerate a kidō master. A non-entity like Abarai should be a simple matter to contain.”

“You’re asking for a change in policy, Captain Kuchiki,” Soi Fon said. “A special exception, which you would have me grant for your lover’s brother.”

Byakuya tried not to flinch at such a public acknowledgement of his relationship with Renji. The threat was clear, but he continued as calmly as he could. “If it is truly your policy to starve a prisoner to the point he would devour his own feces, then, no, I ask for no special privilege. Instead, I would hope that such an inhumane policy be changed not only for Abarai but also for anyone living under such conditions.”

Soi Fon opened her mouth, as though ready to counter some other argument, but it snapped shut. “… What? He… what?” Soi Fon turned her gaze from Byakuya to scowl at her subordinates, “What’s this?”

Byakuya relaxed a little. It seemed Soi Fon hadn’t known, after all. If she’d been aware of the level of Seichi’s mistreatment and had allowed it to continue, there would be little point in appealing to her sense of human decency. But, listening to the Nest’s warden beginning to bluster gave Byakuya a surge of hope.

It was the civilian warden, Aomori, who spoke first, “Captain, you received my report about Abarai. The reason he was able to blow a huge hole in the barracks was because we’d started feeding him. Large sections of barracks twenty is still unusable, and three people are missing. There was massive chaos when he ripped up the place. Think of what would happen if he did something like that in the Nest.”

“The Maggot’s Nest is the most secure prison in the Soul Society,” Byakuya noted. “The entire place is made of sekkiseki. I fail to see why Abarai, who is so much weaker than a trained shinigami, can’t be treated with the same dignity as the rest of the inmates.”

Soi Fon frowned. Though her thin face was pinched in frustration, she appeared to be considering. Glancing at Byakuya, she asked, “You’ve assumed financial responsibility for Abarai?”

“I have,” Byakuya said.

“What about liability? Would you assume responsibility for any damage Abarai might cause?”

“Easily. Even if your wardens don’t, I have faith that your prison can hold him,” Byakuya said, “But I will do so only under the condition that he’s not only fed, but regularly bathed and given new clothing. I understand there’s a tower room? He will be moved there, as well.”

“The tower room?” Soi Fon asked, surprised. “Who told you about that?”

The Nest’s warden must have blushed or otherwise indicated it was she, because Soi Fon’s eagle sharp gaze horned in on her. 

“Well,” Soi Fon said with a thoughtful nod. “I suppose since it was built with you in mind, you might as well move whomever you like into it.”

Byakuya was about to thank her for being so reasonable, when the full implication of what she’d revealed hit him. Built for him? She couldn’t possibly mean that literally. She must have meant someone ‘like him.’ 

She looked at her subordinates. “What are you waiting for? Take care of it!”

Byakuya waited for them to leave, and, satisfied that Soi Fon would make good on her word, turned to go.

“A moment yet, Captain Kuchiki,” Soi Fon said.

Something about her tone made Byakuya wary as he turned back around. 

“Since we seem to be exchanging demands, here’s mine--” she said. Sitting down, she returned to her paperwork. Uncharacteristically, she avoided looking at him when she said, “Stay out of my neighborhood next time you feel the urge to be disgusting. I had a very upset landlord in my office the other day concerned he’d been given a payoff to look the other way while you sexually assaulted your… highly-recognizable lieutenant.”

Byakuya stood completely still, utterly shell-shocked for a heartbeat. 

From a basket on her desk, Soi Fon laid out ken. “He wanted you to have back your blood money.” Soi Fon glanced up then, her eyes razor sharp and cutting. “You should know, I took the landlord’s statement and put it on file. I’ve resisted following up with an investigation for the moment. If your lieutenant says ‘boo,’ however, I won’t hesitate to provide support for him.”

“I see,” Byakuya said, pleased that his voice came out steady and strong. “Remind the tavern’s landlord the money was for room rental, nothing more.”

With that, Byakuya left, though his hands shook as he walked away.

#

 

Renji lay on sandy ground sweating. He and Chad had been at it all morning. Over Chad’s protest, Renji had called for a break. Even if this amazingly tough human kid could go on forever, Renji couldn’t. He’d had to pee for one, and he was getting hungry. Pressing a cold water bottle to his head and letting the cool wetness of it soak into his bandana, Renji stared up at the sunless… ceiling? 

This place was hauntingly like the one under Sōkyoku Hill. Renji’d thought that Lady Yourichi was exaggerating when she’d said Urahara ‘invented’ it. He’d thought maybe she’d meant ‘discovered.’ Seemed she knew what she’d meant to say, after all. But, damn, how did you ‘invent’ space that seemed to go on forever? 

“Are we going to be strong enough?” Chad asked from somewhere behind Renji.

Letting out a long breath, Renji curled his arms under his head. “Probably not. Especially if those guys from the other night are any indication.”

“What are we going to do?”

Renji dipped his head back to look at where Chad leaned against a sandstone boulder, his dark mop of hair completely covering his eyes. “Give ‘em hell and go down swingin’,” Renji offered with a smile. 

When Chad didn’t even lift a corner of his mouth in response, Renji lay back with a sigh.

After a moment, Renji said seriously, “I tried to tell Ichigo this the other night, but his pride was too wounded. Losing isn’t the end. Sometimes it counts as a win if you’re still standing when the dust settles. Fuck it, in my experience, sometimes it’s a win when you’re smeared on the pavement but still breathing. I’ve stepped into more fights than I can count where I was wildly out-matched from the get go. Never stopped me. Shouldn’t stop any of us. When you got to fight, you go in, no matter what. Sure, it sucks getting your ass handed to you, but it teaches humility and courage. You don’t know courage when all you ever do is win. That’s blind luck and you can’t count on luck forever. The biggest test of strength is getting back up once you’ve been knocked down. Going on despite the odds, fighting when you know you’ve already lost, that’s what it takes—that’s courage.”

There was a long thoughtful silence. Then Chad said, “So you’re saying we’re screwed.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

#

The next time, Renji let Chad fight until he fell. It took a long time. There was no doubting that Chad was strong. It was kind of crazy a human could match bankai at all, much less last for hours and hours.

And what was that superpower of his, anyway?

Letting Zabimaru collapse back into his sealed state, Renji let his own legs fold up and sat down hard on the sandy soil, exhausted, and surprisingly battered and bruised. 

“You’re certainly getting into the spirit of things!” Urahara called out, waving his fan in greeting as he approached them. “Oh, dear, did you kill Mr. Sado already?”

“Not yet,” Chad said solemnly. Lifting a trembling arm, he flopped it over his face and seemed to doze off.

Renji watched Chad for a moment, noting how the pale sand stuck to dark, sweaty skin. Turning to Urahara, Renji said, “I don’t know what you’re worried about. That one’s tough.”

“Oh, I never said I was worried. He just asked for training, as did you. Two birds and all that,” Urahara said cheerfully as he came to a stop just in front of Renji. 

Renji frowned. He rubbed out a bruise in his shoulder, and squinted up at Urahara, “I don’t see how you’re training either of us, if we’re only ever fighting each other.”

“No?” Urahara looked confused in that kind of overdoing-it, fake way from behind his fan, and then handed over another letter, “Ghost mail! This is becoming a regular thing.”

“Seems like,” Renji said, taking the sealed paper. “I suppose I ought to write back, huh? 

“You certainly could,” Urahara acknowledged. He continued to stand over Renji and watched him with eyes shadowed and face hidden. “It’s a little harder to send from this side, but not impossible. I have special paper I could sell you!”

Sheesh, something more Renji had to buy? “What about all those school supplies I already bought from you? Why wouldn’t notebook paper work?”

Urahara’s light blond eyebrows rose. “I never said it wouldn’t, just that I have fancy paper you could buy. It has ‘Hello Kitty’ on it and folds into an envelope! It’s nifty.”

“I hate talking to you,” Renji said. Despite Urahara’s promise, Renji doubted he’d ever get a straight answer out of this guy.

Scooting until he found a boulder to lean his back against, Renji broke the seal on Byakuya’s letter.

 

> Dearest Renji,
> 
> I’m not even sure how to begin. I’m sorry to report that your brother is in a very bad way. Despite the fact that you were asked to pay for room and board, the civilian warden refused to feed Seichi. Apparently, he had an explosive reiatsu surge, which is what precipitated his transfer. They neglected to inform us that he was moved not only to solitary, but to the Maggot’s Nest. 

 

“Holy shit!” Renji breathed. Glancing up, Renji showed the words to Urahara, “They sent Seichi to the Maggot’s Nest. Fuck, he’s never getting out of there.”

“Oh, you never know,” Urahara said cryptically. “People have been known to rehabilitate and do very well for themselves outside.”

Renji was suddenly reminded of that Yumichika had said. “You ran that place once,” Renji said. “Did this happen? Regular people from the Rukongai getting sent up this hard?”

Urahara fanned himself. He swung a hip around to lean sassily against the boulder Renji’d propped his back against. “The main requirement for becoming a guest of the Maggot’s Nest is to have levels of spiritual pressure that are deemed dangerous to the general populace. It’s a misconception that it’s a prison for shinigami only. Of course, there are rogues and deserters among their ranks, but the majority of the residents have never had Academy training, which is part of what makes them problematic.” He lifted his hat, and peered down at Renji, “You never heard rumors of people disappearing?”

Renji shook his head, “Not like that. Inuzuri was too far out. We had no regular patrols. I only saw a shinigami once, by accident. I knew where most people went when they left Inuzuri. In the ground.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Urahara said quietly.

“Obviously I knew people who went to prison,” Renji said. “If you got caught out of district, like Seichi, you’d get sent further up. There were rumors that once Inside people could disappear. I guess maybe those guys got taken to the Nest, huh?”

Urahara nodded, “Most likely.”

Renji took a second to thank fate he’d never gotten busted doing any of the shit they’d pulled all those years. One tiny mistake and he’d either have ended up as an indentured yazuka soldier or like Seichi… in prison for life.

And no Zabimaru.

He couldn’t even imagine how awful life would have been without Zabimaru. 

Urahara’s voice cut through Renji’s reverie, “May I ask? What crime is your brother charged with?

“Murder,” Renji said without hesitation. “The only reason he hasn’t been executed already is because our patrol was ambushed by a whole mob of them. It’s hard to say what damage he did, you know, personally, because it’s not like they caught him with a knife in his hand. The bunch of them only had rocks and sticks. Anyway, I suspect the Second is hoping he’ll cough up the ringleader. My money’s on it being shinigami.”

“This is your thought?” The fan dropped, as Urahara grew more interested, “What makes you say so?”

“Because it was smart,” Renji said, glancing up to look Urahara in the eye. “Using their lack of detectable reiatsu to get the drop on a patrol like that? That’s pretty clever for a bunch of Rukongai rats, and bold as brass, too. No one in their right mind thinks a rock is a good weapon against a zanpakutō. So I figure someone powerful must’ve talked them into it, gave them motivation, you know?”

“And what motivates your brother?”

Renji shrugged. “Who knows anymore? But Seichi always had a nose for trouble. He was always yammering on about injustice. He was an easy mark for any rabble-rouser.”

“You disagreed with him?” Urahara was crouching now, his fan resting against his knees.

“What were we going to do out in Inuzuri?” Renji’s fingers curled into the cloth of his hakama, bunching it up. “Stage a protest? Who the fuck would care? Nobody listened to us. We couldn’t change shit; we were a bunch of kids. Anyway, that garbage heap wasn’t worth fighting for. I told him: get a full belly first, then you can call for justice all you want. Nobody’s got time for that kind of talk when they’re starving to death.”

“No one has time for much else, when there are hungry mouths to feed,” Urahara agreed kindly. “Though perhaps that was your brother’s point?”

Renji sighed. “Yeah, of course it was. That’s why we always went round and round and why I didn’t just walk away from him. Seichi had a good heart. He wanted what was right. He hated seeing people suffer and he wanted to make it better. I wanted the same; I was just… more practical—or, I don’t know, jaded, I guess. Until Ichigo, I ain’t never seen no one take on the Soul Society and win. I thought howling at the moon was the best you could hope for. I still kick myself, but you got to admit that boy got lucky. If Aizen hadn’t been behind Central 46, the fucking head captain would’ve gone nuclear on our asses. We’d all be in the Maggot’s Nest or crispy critters right about now.”

Urahara nodded thoughtfully, though Renji got the sense he knew something he wasn’t saying. “Another chance will present itself, I’m sure,” he said quietly, almost as if to himself. Then, he brightened, and asked, “But, you would, if you thought you could have? You would have tried to take on the establishment, as it were? Change the world?”

Renji snorted, “I thought I was changing things, you know, by sharing what we stole instead of hoarding it. It’s harder than you’d think to do that kind of good. Giving something up when you’ve got your hands on all the tasty and your stomach is roaring like—“ Renji stopped and glanced at where he’d laid Zabimaru in the sand beside him. “Huh, I was going to say, like a wild baboon.”

“Oh, yes, I was just listening to that. It’s very loud,” Urahara said with a smile. “And, it’s true. Sharing the literal fruits of your labor communally is an extremely radical thought. You were engaging on a practical level what your brother wanted on a larger, more philosophical level, I suspect, eh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Renji said with a shrug. Glancing at the forgotten letter in his lap, Renji asked, “You really think Seichi could get out of the Maggot’s Nest?”

Urahara stood up and adjusted his hat. “All I’m saying is that it’s been done. Of course, someone else was in charge at the time.” He turned and walked away, waving the fan over his shoulder as a good-bye, “When he wakes up, tell Mr. Sado he’s welcome to join us for dinner. He can always sleep here, too, if he’d rather. You should come up yourself in an hour or so. Tessai bought milkfish!”

“Yeah, okay, thanks,” Renji said, waving, though Urahara had already disappeared through a crevasse.

Renji returned to the letter.

> “I’ve spoken to Soi Fon about your brother’s situation and am satisfied that she will rectify the matter. I’ve insisted on not only food, but a bath and better accommodations. As difficult as it was to see him in such a state, I’m glad that I went. It doesn’t bear to think of what would have become of him had I not.
> 
> I tried to speak to him of Academy, but he’s as stubborn as any Abarai.”

Renji shook his head at the idea of how that conversation must have gone. He was surprised Byakuya even thought of sending Seichi to Academy, though. Shit, what would the instructors make of a guy from Inuzuri with ‘dog’ tattooed right in the middle of his head? Renji’d had enough problems just carrying the stigma of the accent.

> “Regardless, as it seems the Second has other priorities, I’ve decided to make it my personal quest to uncover the truth of your brother’s guilt or innocence. If it can be proven that he’s not responsible for our 11th Seat’s death, perhaps he could be trained in some way to channel his energy properly. If nothing else, he could serve as a bodyguard here at the estate.”

Renji smacked his head. “Work for you? What are you thinking? Hide the silver! Jeez, he’d probably stab you while you slept!” Not only that, but Seichi would never stay. He’d run the first chance he got.

> “There’s another matter I would speak to you about, but it causes me such deep shame I find it too difficult to commit to paper.”

“Shame? That’s not a Byakuya word,” Renji looked at Chad, even though he was snoring loudly now, “And he can’t even write about it? What the fuck?”

> “I want to talk face to face, so although I understand this is sudden and unexpected, I have made arrangements to travel to you. You may expect me tomorrow evening at the usual place. I hope this won’t cause you any inconvenience and that I will be welcome. 
> 
> If you’d prefer not to see me, please send word as soon as possible. Otherwise, I look forward to seeing you again. You are always in my mind, though I have dearly missed the warmth of you in my arms.
> 
> Yours always,  
>  Byakuya.” 

“Well,” Renji told the passed out Chad, while pulling himself to his feet, “Even if he’s coming because he’s freaked out about something, looks like I’m getting a booty call. Works for me.”

 

#

Byakuya was sitting in his office at the estate when Eishirō knocked politely at the door. Frowning, Byakuya said, “Enter.” He hadn’t ordered tea or any other service. What could the steward want?

“Spirit mail arrived for you, my lord,” Eishirō said from the doorway, as though still uncertain he should approach despite the invitation. His hesitation became clear when he added meekly, “And I was wondering if I could have the rest of the afternoon off.”

Off? Eishirō’s family lived on the estate, was there some holiday Byakuya had forgotten? “Of course you may,” Byakuya said, though he was curious enough to ask, “Special plans?”

Finally breeching the threshold with a relieved breath, Eishirō approached and knelt at the opposite side of the table before offering the letter with both hands, “Just an errand for… a friend.”

A curious hesitation. ‘A friend’? Did Eishirō have a secret lover? Byakuya wasn’t sure he approved. After all, Eishirō was married with children. Byakuya took the letter. For a moment he blinked at the paper in his hand. It was pink and decorated with printed images of white cherry blossoms that seemed to float across the expanse. Renji’s cramped, careful hand spelled out Byakuya’s name and rank.

Eishirō waited with a bowed head to be dismissed, but Byakuya held him with a question, “What sort of errand needs an entire afternoon to complete?”

“One that takes me into the Rukongai, my lord,” Eishirō said. “Though only just, thank goodness.”

Byakuya had picked up Renji’s letter intending to open it, but paused. “The Rukongai? Are you taking one of the bodyguards? Someone from the Division?”

“Uh… no, my lord. I’d planned to go alone.”

“Alone? I can’t have my house steward wandering into the Rukongai unarmed,” Byakuya said, returning his attention to the letter. “I’ll accompany you.”

“No!” Eishirō blurted. His hands flew up and covered his mouth. Slowly, as though cautiously, he lowered them. “That is, my lord is far too important to accompany someone as lowly as myself.”

“Nonsense, I insist,” Byakuya said.

Eishirō kept his head bowed for a long moment and then let out a sigh. “Yes, my lord.”

“There’s a problem?” Byakuya asked when Eishirō continued to look dejected.

“Would my lord consider going incognito, like we used to do when his lordship was younger? Only I’m afraid the price will go up if the kenseikan are seen.”

Price? Dear gods, what was the man up to? Still, Byakuya was certainly curious now, and perhaps he could take the opportunity to ask around about what might known about Seichi’s roving band of marauders. “You may choose whatever you find appropriate and lay it out for me. I can leave within an hour, if that’s acceptable.”

“More than,” Eishirō nodded with an odd twinkle in his eye. “It will be a pleasure to decide on my lord’s wardrobe for this escapade.”

Ah. They would be playing dress up. “Very well,” Byakuya said. “You may be dismissed.”

There was much bowing and backing out the door. Finally, Byakuya was alone with Renji’s letter. It took a moment to uncover the working of the folds, but Byakuya managed to open it without tearing it.

 

> ~~Taicho~~ ,  
>  ~~Lord Kuchiki,~~  
>  Dear Byakuya ~~-sama,~~
> 
> Who knew it was so hard to write letters? I think I’m suddenly impressed with you—okay, more impressed.
> 
> Anyway, I mostly just wanted you to know it’s okay to come for a visit. More than okay, actually. Speaking of, we should figure out a hotel room or something, because you can’t bunk overnight where I’m staying. Mr. Urahara has a ton of very weird rules and I already woke up one night with a certain black cat sleeping all curled up on my ~~ass~~ butt.
> 
> Unless, you know, you’d be okay with you and me and her. Because, I’d totally go there. Just saying. 
> 
> Mr. Urahara says all the usual things will be in that storage space we used before. I’ll meet you there. It’s been quiet after that first night, so I don’t expect any trouble. Chad tells me Ichigo has sulked off somewhere, so maybe the orange-haired moron has just gone off to fight them all on his own without us. Typical.
> 
> Should I let Rukia know you’re coming? She’s kind of on her own with Ichigo off being an idiot, and I heard her talking about going back to the Soul Society. She’ll want to go with you and maybe bring Orihime for some training. All four of us could all go out to dinner one night or something? I hear that some hotels have fancy restaurants in them. I could look into it, if you want. Will you stay more than one night?

Byakuya had to turn the letter and twist his head to read as the scrawl crawled up the side of the paper when Renji had run out of room to write.

> I guess it’s hard to stop once you start, eh? I didn’t know I’d have this much to say. Looking forward to seeing you. I hope you can stay longer. I’ve got more than one night in me, if you know what I’m saying.
> 
> Love,  
>  Renji

Byakuya smiled as he folded the letter back up. The art of sensual correspondence would never be Renji’s strength, but he’d managed to convey a lot of his rough charm, nonetheless. 

It would be good to see him again. Byakuya tucked the letter under his inkwell for safe keeping. Standing up, he went off to the master suite to see what sort of disguise Eishirō had set out for him.


End file.
